


Breaking the Beast

by ChromeHoplite



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Degradation, Dirty Talk, Edging, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Teasing, fleshlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 03:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/pseuds/ChromeHoplite
Summary: Light was creeping under the chamber door like a dirty white dawn and both master and butler had been engaged in a game of who would break first. Minutes had turned into an hour, and an hour into two and three…“Shall we try one more time, Sebastian? If you want to spend, you must ask for it. You can do that, can’t you?” Ciel smiled, arms crossed, biting his thumb. “Come now, beg your master.”





	Breaking the Beast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [velvetmeridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetmeridian/gifts), [CimmerianShade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CimmerianShade/gifts).



> This is a commission for @velvetmeridian  
> Their incredible art inspired this writing piece. I'd link it to you, but Dumblr decided that you shouldn't see it, and won't let me. Instead, I've linked it to a reblog on my own blog -- i hope it helps. You can try to see it [here](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/misshoplite/181710257423)  
> \--- give it notes, some comments and follow this incredibly talented and sweet artist!

Light was creeping under the chamber door like a dirty white dawn and both master and butler had been engaged in a game of who would break first. Minutes had turned into an hour, and an hour into two and three… 

To even the odds, the demon had been bound, and as always, had relinquished his power to the young man he’d been serving for some eight years. 

Exasperated, the earl fastened his short trousers again and pulled up on the butler’s necktie to drag him to his feet from the kneeling position he’d assumed in front of his master for the last twenty minutes. Ciel knew he should be satisfied, or at the very least, that his most primal urges should be quenched, but he’d yet to gain that which he yearned from the demon. 

_Carnal submission._

Once standing, Ciel drove the butler back so that he fell gracefully onto the rosewood loveseat, hands bound behind him. The earl sat across from him in a large parlour chair, leaning arrogantly against the armrest, helping himself to refreshment from the decanter to his left. Tumbler in hand, he swirled the whiskey it held as he contemplated the unseemly state of undress before him. While both shirt and vest were still draped over Sebastian’s torso, they weren’t in their usual pristine condition; the buttons had been roughly torn in some areas while others dangled by the thin fiber with which they’d been delicately sewn. 

There wasn’t much proper about the rest of the demon either, he sat there seething, naked from the waist down, trousers crumpled in a heap around his ankles on the floor. He squared his shoulders defiantly, kept his lovely aristocratic features haughty as he stared straight ahead, as if through his master, in an effort to appear disinterested and restrained, except that nobody with such a murderous glare could ever be thought of as restrained, especially with their manhood hanging out, hard and proud, like the beast that he was. 

_Eight times._

That’s how often Ciel had brought the demon to the edge. That’s how many times the devil had denied himself. The human thought for sure he’d have broken by three, and yet the fact that he hadn’t filled him paradoxically with a rush of pride and utter frustration. 

Silence had never bothered the pair before, but the wordless disquiet that filled the chamber at that very moment was unnerving for the earl. The wind outside howled violently, shaking the great manor, and from within, animalistic sounds echoed in their very room. They were faint to be sure, and Ciel wondered if the unmistakable buzzing of flies, the bleating of a goat like that of a screaming human and a fluttering of strong, avian wings were not only in his head. 

Bracing himself for another round, the young man stood, approached his servant, and pushed him back against the loveseat by planting his small, booted foot delicately, albeit firmly into the center of Sebastian’s bare chest. Ciel’s head lolled to the side coyly, a playful smirk stretching his face when he saw the way the demon appraised his long leg. Crimson vertical slits swept from breakable ankle to meaty calf, up and up past the knee and were lost somewhere amidst the deliciously covered thigh. When the stare did not stop there, continued to where his own length was already stirring, Ciel unconsciously held his breath, knew Sebastian could smell his renewed arousal, could no doubt see the damp, darkened spot on the fabric of his clothes were his cock had incessantly wept with both need and want. 

_Bastard._  


The earl knew a thing or two about being a bastard as well -- he’d learned from the best, after all. The rough undersurface of his boot slid along the taut musculature of Sebastian’s exposed abdomen, scraping it and the arch of his foot came to rest on the demon’s straining erection. 

There was an unearthly roar, a bloodthirsty snapping of jaws and the butler fell forward, head on his young master’s knee. “Hell…” he panted, mouth sweltering and lecherous, nipping the tender skin. His member ached, pulsed with each beat of his faux heart, twitching each time his master exhaled. 

Ciel added pressure to the sole of his boot and rubbed the length with the suede royal blue covering, nudging it with his toes, eliciting a serpentine hiss from the devil’s mouth, as strings of precum, wet and sticky, clung to the fabric. The sound held no pain, but rather resentment and warning. Ciel noticed Sebastian’s eyes roll back as he dragged in a deep breath and thrust his hips an infinitesimal degree to simply cause himself some friction. 

“Shall we try one more time, Sebastian? If you want to spend, you must ask for it. You can do that, can’t you?” Ciel smiled, arms crossed, biting his thumb. “Come now, beg your master.” 

The growl at the back of Sebastian’s throat as he peered up at him from under a thick veil of midnight lashes was all the answer Ciel needed to confirm the demon’s mood. 

“Is that an order my Lord?” he snarled facetiously, speaking through his teeth with forced self-control. 

Ciel’s foot came back down to the floor and he stood between his butler’s legs, toeing his trousers to the side. “No,” he responded, leaning in, hands at either side of Sebastian’s head, holding onto the frame of the loveseat. “You should do it of your own free will, because you _want_ to,” he whispered, hot breath against Sebastian’s ear wringing a fine tremor in his solid frame. 

A grunt of disapproval was all the demon uttered. “There, that’s a good boy,” Ciel praised Sebastian as if he were a dog, “if you won’t use words, you’ll have to resort to whining and sobbing like a good little whore.” 

Whether out of vexation or arousal, the increased blood flow actually suited the demon; for once he looked flushed, his skin not the perfect alabaster it usually was. His cock was no longer the pretty pink blush it had been when it had first been pulled out either; now it looked angry, dark red, purplish at the tip, drooling copiously, precum pooling between the apex of the butler’s thighs onto the sofa and drenching the velvet upholstery. He was unrepentant of that fact, had said as much verbally, and had proceeded to cause more of the clear, gummy fluid to spill from the slit. 

A skilled pretender, Sebastian kept a cool, detached facade and appeared completely unaffected by the thick band around the base of his cock and another around his sack. He did not shift or fidget the way humans would; his discomfort was displayed otherwise: a momentary flash of fuchsia in his irises, the bursting open of windows from across the room, the flickering (and subsequent extinguishing) of candles and walls shuddering and groaning but not moving. 

“Last chance, Sebastian…” the earl prompted, running his thumb over the demon’s plump bottom lip. When the butler refused to respond, Ciel pushed it past his lips, catching it on jagged teeth and bleeding into the hot wetness of his mouth. An eager tongue wrapped around the digit, gave it a subtle suck and both master and servant gave an inaudible sigh. 

Ciel’s heartbeat drummed inside his ears and the back of his neck prickled feverishly, tingling his skin. “Do you taste it, demon? Can you taste my soul? Does it excite you?”

Sebastian glowered at his master, and a vicious snarl tore through his throat, curling his lips over his teeth. The sound simmered to a low, rumbling growl, and Ciel was sure it was coming from the demon’s firm belly. It was a hungry sound and it only grew in intensity the more he crammed his small fingers into the beast’s mouth, feeding him his sanguine essence. 

It should frighten him, or at least remind him of his fate, and it did, but in a most pleasant way. Over the years that they’d played these vulgar games, had teased and taunted and fucked, he’d willingly shared the butler with multiple lovers, because he knew one truth: Sebastian belonged to him as did the butler’s devoted loyalty. That kind of fealty was not human and he relied upon that singular fact. So he watched on breathlessly, a captive audience as Sebastian's lips stretched around his fingers, drew them in and let them swipe the back of his throat. 

He almost mounted the butler then and there, forgetting the objective of his own pursuit. Wanted to crush his lips against Sebastian’s for the first and last time. The threat loomed over him with every passing day. Erotic. Sinful. To be swallowed up, to be done with this charade. To savour his own demise in a deep, soul-sucking kiss. 

“Stop that,” he chastised, pulling away from Sebastian and breaking the lecherous, hypnotic trance he had momentarily fallen prey to. 

“If you insist, my Lord,” the devil simpered, looking pleased with himself. Ciel felt his narrowed, suspicious eyes following him to the bedside drawer. Saw a look of confused interest in them when they settled on the oil and toy and the boy kneeling between his legs when he’d returned. 

Sebastian chuckled once humorlessly. “I believe that is _your_ toy, young master. It won’t fit me. We are not … evenly matched in size.” 

Ciel looked up with a wicked grin, pouring oil sloppily into the opening of the flexible, semi-opaque, rubbery masturbatory tool he’d been gifted by none other than the demon himself. “I know, that’s why I’m using it. You’re always complaining about how tight I am, then have the nerve to say that you wished I was tighter.” 

A shadow of a smile was upon the demon’s handsome face, but quickly vanished as Ciel grabbed hold of the twitching cock, swiped his kitten tongue over the slit and moaned appreciatively at the taste of the pearly beads coaxed out. 

Without any other preamble, the young Lord placed the toy over the butler’s cockhead and lowered it, slowly, watching curiously as it expanded the opening and settled just around the flared corona. As expected, the fit was snug, and Sebastian repressed a shudder, one his master hadn’t missed. 

“Perhaps this time I should blindfold you…” he suggested, trying to remain demure in what he saw as a partial victory. Clenching the toy in his fist he dragged it up and over the head and down again. He set a nice rhythm, squeezing, wringing and twisting it, fully engrossed by the wet, sopping sounds it made. 

“Maybe you should just get on with it,” Sebastian spat, black fringe falling into his face and he bowed his head in annoyance, eyes trained on his own member and the toy smattered with his master’s bloody fingers.

“Is that any way to speak to your master?” Ciel chastened, pushing the fleshlight all the way down in one swift movement. The demon’s length swelled in agonizing pulses inside the toy, stretched and strained around the girth. Harsh breaths were expelled from the demon’s nose and fell into something like a laboured panting as the earl began to languidly pump the slickness to the head and force it down again. Narrowed, crimson slits devoured the sight and feasted on the savage slurping sound, as if it were an inexperienced mouth. 

Sebastian’s hips canted where he sat, a moment of weakness, an urge or maybe a concession he gave himself for not failing all those other times. 

Despite the jerky, animalistic movement that trumped his usual fluid graceful ones, the butler’s posture was stiff; he was all tensed muscles and corded neck. And Ciel took advantage. What would it take to suspended Sebastian’s concentrated humming and graduate it to a pleading, desperate moan? 

“Look at you,” he teased as Sebastian’s head fell back, smiling with bloodlust. He spread his legs apart and his claw-like fingers flexed in their restraints, tearing the fabric behind him, “Hips bucking up into an artificial cunt. You look like a bitch in heat. You’re letting your aesthetic falter, butler.” 

The devil laughed, a crazed upwelling of mirth. “Are you tired of doing all the work yet, human?”

 _Human._ Sebastian only used that word with him when he was worked up. As it was, he felt the demon’s cock convulse inside the toy, saw him biting down on his lower lips until it turned white and dig his heels into the floor until it lamented under them. He was a panting, grunting, seething mess. “Maybe a little,” Ciel informed him with false remorse, removing the toy and firmly squeezing the tip of his sleek member. 

“Fuck, you teasing harlot!” Sebastian growled, hips grinding forward. The power and tension behind the thrusts could not be restrained by Ciel’s small hand on the demon’s pelvis, in an effort to subdue him. And his use of such uncouth language tented his own trousers, quickened his pulse and filled him with ripe desire once again. 

“L-language,” he stammered, replacing his hand with the toy to distract from the blush creeping up his neck, face and ears. He wasted no time stroking it, slipping the sleeve up and down the hot, rigidly unyielding flesh over and over, cupping his sack and squeezing it in time. 

Sweat ran down Sebastian’s hairline onto his heaving chest. It pooled in the dips and hollows of his muscles. He was gasping and panting, smiling a voracious smile that promised reciprocated violence. Ciel drove the toy faster and harder with his fist and the squelching, soft sucking sound had the butler pinching his eyes shut, hips stuttering erratically. He moaned with slow deliberation, a drawn out, long-repressed moan with one aim: to agitate his master. 

It worked. 

“Just submit, you mutt. Just _one_ keening, whimpering wail,” he implored the devil, pulling off the fleshlight again. Sebastian’s quivering cock twitched, bobbed and leaked profusely. He played at struggling against his restraints; Ciel knew he could get out if he wanted, but that would mean a loss in their game. 

The young man’s hand wrapped around his arousal tightly and he fed himself the head. A greedy moan broke from between Sebastian’s pursed lips again as Ciel nuzzled his cock, beat it off his lips, chin and cheeks, spreading viscid strings of precum along his noble features. The scent, the heat were positively intoxicating, as was the prospect of winning. 

The heady sensation, the need to claim, the throb against his tongue, the starved aching lust and the salacious flavour had him forgetting himself as he buried the mass into his mouth. He massaged the back of his throat with it, made hungry, contented sounds that reverberated against the demon’s length. His eyes watered behind the eye patch, tears melding with the spit that seeped from either side of his mouth and dripped off his chin. 

He pulled off, growling as Sebastian smiled down on him condescendingly. Clumsily, he reached for the oil and knocked it over where it spread along the wood flooring. “Damn,” he intoned under his breath, and took to spitting onto the demon’s cock instead.

“How unbecoming,” Sebastian mocked, gnashing his teeth in challenge, a predator sizing up its prey. “Maybe you should just sheathe yourself on me, my Lord, I can tell you want to. I can smell you, you’re so close. You might not be skilled at torture, but you’re quite the obedient little cock warmer, aren’t you?” 

“Damn you! Shut up and _beg_ , Sebastian! I want you to beg me!” Ciel cried out between broken, ragged breaths. His arousal was steadily climbing and if the damned beast wouldn't concede soon, he himself would, before long, lose his composure.

The fleshlight was wrenched over the length again, this time with more difficulty due to trembling hands and the swollen girth. Both master and butler’s faces were contorted with rage and unfulfilled desire. Their eyes locked on one another. Ciel’s gaze broke first, teeth clenched so tightly he feared they may shatter. His cramped hand continued to fist and pump his butler’s arousal. Licking a strip of sweat up Sebastian’s midsection to his peaked nipple, he captured it in his mouth and bit down on it.. 

The demon’s writhing and thrashing only encouraged him to continue, to lap at and flick the hardened nub behind his teeth, to suck it hard as he slammed the toy unevenly, pounding the demon’s cock, brutally, ruthlessly. 

Sebastian’s hips pistoned unrelenting into the tight, accommodating hole. He jerked and flexed, saw halos of energy radiate off the small form servicing him. Unable to be kept at bay any longer, his own filamented shadow unfurled behind him, at least ten times his size, twisting and lashing out in an orgiastic war of raging snarls and tangles against the wall. 

The demon’s head shot back, mouth tearing inhumanly at the jaw, when from between his legs, a helpless, whining sob ripped through them. The young man came seconds before him, untouched, face buried in his butler’s chest as he shuddered and gripped the hem of Sebastian’s ripped shirt. 

Vindictive, the demon’s hips surged and the coiled knot in his starving, bottomless void snapped. He broke from his bindings, pushed the earl back none too gently, dislodged the toy from his person and spilled his seed, thick spurt after thick, painful spurt onto his master’s soiled attire. He whimpered a growl, guiding the young man’s face to his organ to collect the rest of the milky release upon his mouth and chin. 

Eyes wet, still glistening with post-orgasmic bliss and bruised pride, Ciel bitterly dragged the back of his fingers along his mouth. “You devil,” he accused. 

Sebastian’s large, gloved hand slid behind Ciel’s head, cradled it, then took it by the roots of the hair, forcing him to look up so that he may lick his spoils from his young master’s tainted face. “You only call me devil, my Lord, because I make you want to sin.”


End file.
